Nocturne
by Sailor Seraphim
Summary: The night is a constant companion and Heero worries that it will take Duo away from him. Why does Duo wander in the dark? And when will Heero realize what he has? Finalist in the Moments of Rapture Contest.


Title: Nocturne (1/1)  
Author: Sailor Seraphim (slrsera @ aol.com)  
Archive:   
l.e.t.h.a.l.t.h.o.u.g.h.t.s. ::*grumble* Lost my server...  
FanFiction.net :: http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=39868  
Final Triumph :: http://www.geocities.com/finaltriumph  
Emy's Archive :: http://emy.gwyaoi.com  
All others please ask.  
Rating: PG-13-ish  
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of tasty shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.  
Pairings: 1x2x1. Duh.  
Warnings: sap, angst, slightly paranoid Heero, domestic tranquility, mention of sex, and a dishwasher assault.  
Spoilers: Nothing really besides general series knowledge and perhaps a dash of Episode Zero. This takes place years after Endless Waltz.  
Notes: Moments of Rapture Fanfiction Contest Finalist (http://www.zerotwofan.com/rapture). ph33r. Much love is given to K-chan and Aoi-chan, without whom this fic would have died a horribly bloody death.   
Feedback: I take all constructive criticism. No flames, they leave nasty scorch marks on the carpet.  
  
  
  
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The right side of the bed was empty.  
  
Free hand fumbling against the cold and still air where a slim, warm body was supposed to be, Heero's blue eyes shot open. He blinked stupidly across the bed, as if looking would find Duo ensconced in some corner of the bed where he couldn't reach. But blinking his eyes did nothing but drive the sleep further away, and Duo still wasn't in the bed. Rolling over onto his back, Heero listened carefully. There was no flush of the toilet, there wasn't the sound of water rushing through the pipes, there wasn't even the sound of Duo humming to himself as he did some tedious chore. There was no sound except the wind against the eaves and the soft sounds of the ocean. He didn't know why he did this -- continued to lay in the bed as if, on this night, it would be different and Duo would slink out of the bathroom or the kitchen after a midnight snack and come back to bed.  
  
But it wasn't midnight. It was 3:47 AM.   
  
And Duo wasn't in the bathroom. He was where he always was.  
  
Rising reluctantly, as if the weight of his own inexperience was pulling him down, Heero left the bed and crossed over to the large window. The right side of the bed was closest to the window; you could lie there and stare out across the ocean without having to shift position. For not the first time, Heero cursed his obsessive need to be the closest to the exit. He kept the bedroom door to his back and slept on his left side, keeping his right arm free to grab for a gun. They had stopped keeping their guns under their pillows months ago, but Heero still kept his arm free. It made him feel better to think that he could protect Duo from any intrusion or danger by keeping his back to the door. Duo had simply raised his hands in exasperation and not questioned what he termed "crazy Heero logic" and took the right side of the bed without a further complaint.   
  
Heero moved the long drape aside, staring out the polished glass of the window. The tide was out; leaving a wide stretch of beach that was unblemished and clean, except for a set of tracks that Heero had come to recognize as familiar. Tilting his head, he could make out the slim form wandering down the deserted beach, clad only in sweatpants and bare feet.  
  
"Duo..." Heero sighed.  
  
Then he let the drapes fall back shut and went back to bed.  
  
  
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When Heero woke again, it was to the familiar feel of Duo tucked against him, all warm skin and long hair, snoring as if he had been lying in Heero's arms all night. It was mornings when Heero questioned himself the most, when he wondered if those late night occurrences weren't just byproducts of his subconscious fear of Duo leaving him one day. But Heero had never much listened to the psychiatrists who had tried to stuff him into their preset metal states and their canned diagnoses. This had happened too many times to simply be a recurring dream. Heero *knew* that Duo left their bed in the middle of the night to walk on the beach. He just didn't know why.  
  
The American stirred in his arms, one hand rising to his amaryllis eyes to rub at them.   
  
"'Mornin', 'eero," Duo yawned.  
  
"Morning, Duo," Heero returned.   
  
Then, because it felt right, he leaned over and kissed his lover. Duo came wide-awake and then playfully pushed the Japanese man away.  
  
"Yuck! Morning breath!"  
  
"So sorry to offend you."  
  
A pillow hit Heero across the face. "The bathroom for you! Or else you don't get breakfast!"  
  
Heero nodded and slipped out of the bed, but not before stealing one more kiss. Duo threw the pillow at him but Heero had closed the bathroom door at the last second, feeling the wood shudder as the mass of cotton and polyester fiber smacked against it. The blue-eyed man chuckled, rubbing a hand across his chin in idle thought. The rough texture against his palm snapped Heero out of his mental wandering and he opened the medicine cabinet, rustling around for the can of shaving cream and his razor.  
  
  
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Heero was nursing a mug of coffee as Duo puttered around the kitchen.   
  
Mornings in the Maxwell-Yuy household went like this:  
  
Heero used the bathroom first, while Duo set up the coffee maker.  
  
Heero left the bathroom and sneaked a kiss from Duo as they passed in the hallway. Duo entered the bathroom and Heero went outside in his robe and slippers to get the newspaper. The length of time varied, depending on where the paperboy had decided to throw the newspaper. Ideally on the porch -- more often it was in the bushes, or on the lawn, and once Heero found the paper stuck in the branches of the tree in the yard. On that morning, Heero had decided he really didn't need to read the paper.  
  
Heero entered the house with the paper (or not, depending) and went straight into the kitchen. Duo would already be there, setting out a mug of black coffee for Heero as he fixed breakfast. They would indulge in mutual dodging and teasing as Heero fetched the milk and sugar, and Duo looked for eggs. Then Heero would sit at the counter with his coffee, open the paper, and read articles out loud. Duo would interject his opinions whenever he felt it was necessary.  
  
Looking over the top of the World section when he heard the unmistakable sounds of the electric mixer over the sounds of frying bacon, Heero raised one eyebrow and he lowered the paper.   
  
"Pancakes?"  
  
Duo looked up from the bowl of batter he was whipping into submission. There was a streak of pancake mix across his cheek, and he had tucked his braid down the back of his shirt 'just in case.' "Yeah, pancakes," he answered, raising his voice over the electric whir.  
  
"After the last time?"  
  
The last time Duo had made pancakes, he had accidentally lifted the mixer from the bowl without turning it off first. Buttermilk pancake batter had splattered all across the kitchen and the two young men that had been in it. This had led to a food fight where more batter, as well as butter, syrup and eggs had been hurled around. Then Heero had absently licked batter from Duo's floury fingers and they ended up making love on the kitchen floor. They had both forgotten to eat breakfast that day... and they skipped lunch, too. The Japanese man vaguely wondered if the same thing would happen this morning.  
  
Narrowed violet eyes were focused on him, and the American man had an outraged expression on his face. "Hey! I think there's a rule about not insulting a chef in his own kitchen!"  
  
"I'm just bringing up--"  
  
"Do you think I don't know how to make pancakes?"  
  
"Oh, I know you do. But I don't want to have to clean the kitchen again."  
  
Duo made as if to raise his fist threateningly, then remembered at the last minute that it was the one holding the mixer. He turned off the appliance *then* raised it from the bowl, waving the batter-covered beater at Heero. "I didn't see you complaining at the time! Now you turn the bacon before it burns or I'll show you just what I can do with this thing."  
  
A large glob of pancake batter fell from the beater and splattered on the tiled floor.  
  
  
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The right side of the bed was empty.  
  
Heero groaned, wondering if he should even bother to get up and look. But, in the end, he couldn't drown out the voices in his head that harped and sniped and warned him that *this* night would be different. He pulled himself from the bed that was kept warm by his body heat alone and crossed the room to the large window. He pulled aside the drapes and peered through the polished glass and into the night.  
  
Familiar footprints tracking through the damp sand.  
  
A slim form wandering just out of the reach of the lapping waves.  
  
The drapes fell.  
  
Heero went back to bed.  
  
  
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Heero was paying bills at the dining room table.   
  
As he wrote off checks and balanced accounts, he let his mind wander. This always happened when he was doing such mind-numbing activity. It was almost funny, that his younger years as one of the Earth Sphere's most dangerous people had lead to him living a suburban life with his lover. After the Wars, when peace had descended and normal people went on with their lives, Heero and Duo had made a pact to always be there for each other. Or rather, Duo had, and Heero had just followed because he had no idea of anything else he could do. And it had been a hard struggle; a road that was lined by anger, misery, depression and confusion. The Japanese man could still remember the neighbor-waking fights that he and Duo had engaged in, at the beginning. They had even had the police called on them and Duo was -- to this day -- pissed that his criminal record had the innocuous line "domestic disturbance" on it, right next to the charges of theft, grand theft, homicide, mayhem, arson, and larceny. Of course, Duo didn't have a real criminal record per se, considering that most of those crimes had occurred before he had a legal identity, but Duo was still miffed about it.   
  
This phase of their relationship had lasted some months before the stress of it made them both a little crazy. Then, one day, in the middle of one of their arguments, someone had snapped and they were rolling around the living room floor, ripping the clothes from each other. Heero had never been able to figure out who had started it, but he wasn't complaining. They had been together as a couple since then.  
  
He wondered why Duo always left in the middle of the night.   
  
Heero could come up with no reason that would necessitate Duo leaving their bed in the middle of the night to walk on the cold, deserted beach alone. When he had first realized what had happened, Heero had thought that his braided lover would bring up the subject himself. He had thought that it was just a passing thing and Duo would work out his problems himself. But none of that ever happened and now, seven months after the first time (that Heero knew of), Duo was still making his nightly haunts. The only time Duo didn't go out was when it was raining, but Heero figured that Duo knew he'd never be able to crawl back into bed without waking Heero if he was dripping wet.   
  
But it still gnawed at his mind... Heero wondered if he wasn't doing something wrong, if there wasn't something more he *should* do. He was tempted to bring up the subject himself, but was afraid of Duo's reaction. Would he think Heero was trying to coddle him? Would he think Heero was being too overprotective? Walking on the beach in the middle of the night wasn't a dangerous activity... it especially wasn't dangerous to the young man who still called himself Shinigami. Would Duo be hurt that Heero hadn't asked sooner? Would he be upset that Heero had known for months without saying anything? This uncertainty clawed at Heero and led to his indecision.  
  
"Yo, Heero!"  
  
Heero looked up from the bills. "Hn?"  
  
"Quatre's on the vidphone. Come on and talk to him!"  
  
Heero smiled a little and removed the reading glasses from they were perched across his nose. "So he's back from his trip to L-3?"  
  
Duo nodded, slinging one arm around Heero's waist as they entered the living room together. "Yeah, and he says he's got gifts for us!"  
  
Heero draped his arm around Duo's shoulders and turned to the vidphone. "Hello, Quatre."  
  
  
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The right side of the bed was empty.  
  
Heero bit his lip as he stared out of the glass. A storm had been brewing for the past few days and now the tide was high; battering waves throwing themselves against the sandy beach, the wind lashing the waves into foam. Still, Duo was walking out in the dark, bare-footed and agile, avoiding the waves and keeping himself from getting wet.   
  
For some reason, Heero could not bring himself to lie back down in their cold bed and instead chose to stand before the window, watching his lover's strange nocturnal acts. He pressed one hand against the glass, as if he could somehow reach out from where he was, scoop Duo into his embrace and protect him from whatever drove him to this unending punishment. Weary, Heero pressed his forehead against the window as well, the sharp bite of the cold glass giving him only a taste of what Duo must be enduring outside.  
  
A door shut downstairs.  
  
Heero's eyes shot open. He gave a quick scan of the outdoors -- no one there -- and heard the tread of footsteps across the tiles. Duo had come back in! How long had he been daydreaming at the window? Hoping that he wouldn't be caught, Heero dropped the drapes he had fisted in his hand, rolled across Duo's side of the bed, and sprawled himself across the left side. He hurriedly pulled the blankets over his shoulders, using his training to calm his heartbeat and ease his breathing so that he could fake sleep. The footsteps were on the stairs now. He could only hope that Duo wouldn't realize the sheets were not warm. Heart still beating a bit too fast for his tastes, Heero shut his eyes as the bedroom door creaked quietly. Duo had always complained about the slight squeak, but Heero was secretly glad that Duo had never gotten around to greasing the hinges.   
  
There was a small rustle as Duo pulled off his sweatpants and stuffed them -- deep -- into the laundry hamper. Then he moved like a shadow, slipping into the bed in such a way that the bed hardly dipped under his weight. Cold arms were wrapping themselves around Heero's chest, and he could feel a bare leg slip between his own and the smooth pull of Duo's silk boxers against his skin. It took every ounce of willpower Heero had not to raise his arms automatically and pull his lover in closer to him.  
  
Duo murmured, shivering and snuggling in closer to Heero before immediately dropping off to sleep.  
  
For some reason, Heero wanted to cry.  
  
  
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Heero squinted through the darkness, trying to hold the flashlight in his mouth and maneuver himself within the small space. The dishwasher had been acting up lately; the water wouldn't drain after they ran it, and it was starting to be a problem. While neither Duo nor Heero was too lazy to do the dishes the old fashioned way -- by hand in the sink -- there were far too many times when dishwashing had turned into foreplay. Not that it was a problem, Heero decided. For some reason the both of them could turn any kitchen activity into a sexual one. But still, neither young man wanted to stoop to having to call in a professional, so Heero took it upon himself to fix the malfunctioning appliance.   
  
Duo had stepped away carefully, seeing the intense look in Heero's eyes at the self-imposed mission. The American retreated to the rest of the house, the vacuum cleaner announcing where he was. The muted roar told him Duo was fussing around the bedroom, and the sound of Duo singing slightly off-key to the blaring radio only confirmed it.  
  
So now, Heero had most of his upper body within the dishwasher, trying to figure out what was wrong. The illumination from the flashlight was poor -- Heero made a mental note to change the batteries -- and despite memorizing the instruction manual, Heero still couldn't figure out where the primary drain was. He'd been able to repair and rewire Wing within a day... now it had been at least three hours and Heero still couldn't figure out what was wrong! Heero growled, then jerked, the flashlight nearly falling from his lips. There... that plug... Slowly, Heero reached forward, his fingers fumbling against the drain.  
  
"Heero!"  
  
You couldn't have startled Heero worse unless you fired off a gun next to his ear. Actually, if a gun *did* fire off by his head, Heero would have probably taken down his attacker with little thought. As it was, the flashlight dropped from Heero's mouth, clattering loudly in the enclosed space. He tried to stand up, forgetting why exactly he was hunched over, and whacked his head against the top of the dishwasher. Cursing, the Japanese man dropped down again, a loud crack announcing that he had just broken the dishwasher door by landing fully on it. Behind him there was a loud metallic clang, which meant that Heero had kicked the washer racks with his feet. His eyesight was spotty, the back of his head hurt, and his pride had taken a definite beating. Hopefully Duo wouldn't...  
  
"Heero! What the hell?!"  
  
... Damn. His pride took another fatal shot.   
  
The bright light from the flashlight struck him squarely in the eyes from where he was laying, half in and half out of the dishwasher. Duo came forward, and a hand on his back told the Japanese man that his lover was now crouching near him curiously. The hand started to shake and Heero bit back an annoyed grumble.  
  
"Stop laughing."  
  
"I... sorry..." Duo managed to compose himself and asked seriously, "What happened?"  
  
"You shouted my name. I thought you were in trouble."  
  
There was a long pause while the hand on his back continued to shake. "Why... why don't you get up?"  
  
Heero paused, then allowed the hateful words to wiggle their way past his clenched teeth. "Because I'm stuck."  
  
Duo burst out into roaring laughter, half-collapsing across Heero's back.  
  
"It's not funny."  
  
Duo continued to chortle, his warm breath seeping through Heero's shirt. He was now clutching the fabric between his fingers like a lifeline. The American managed to stop just short of pounding his palm across Heero's shoulder blades, but from the laughter that was echoing around the inside of the dishwasher, it was a very near thing.  
  
"Stop it."  
  
His lover's laughter finally died down to hiccups and chuckles and his hand stroked Heero's back. "I... oh god! All those times tryin' to self-destruct and you get this! Heero Yuy, ex-Gundam pilot extraordinaire, victim of tragic household accident! Woo! Maybe you should leave this to the professionals."  
  
"Just shut up and pull me out of here."  
  
Duo started laughing again.  
  
  
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The right side of the bed was empty.  
  
The sight was so familiar now, and Heero couldn't help but feel the bile rising in the back of his throat at that thought. Then Heero's sapphire eyes blinked and he turned quickly to the bedside clock to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. 7:53 AM. It was morning. And Duo wasn't in bed with him. Panic quickly seized Heero. He leapt out of the bed, running to the windows and wrenching the drapes open so hard that the curtain rings snapped under the strain and the rod itself bent.   
  
It couldn't be! It couldn't be! Heero was *sure* that Duo had returned from his nocturnal haunt and been in bed with him. Ever since that fateful night when Heero had nearly been caught spying on his lover, Heero had not been sleeping. He would go to bed every night with Duo in his arms and at the moment when his lover slipped out of them, Heero would instantly be awake. From there, Heero would take up his lonely vigil, watching from the bedroom window as Duo remained entranced with the cyclic waves and the seductive call of the sea. But he never made the same mistake; he watched carefully, charting the American's progress with the map he had in his head, and when Duo turned at the large boulder some hundred meters away, Heero would return to the bed, making sure it would be warm for when Duo crawled back in between the sheets. Only then, with Duo safely ensconced in his arms again, could Heero sleep.   
  
And Duo had been in his arms early this morning. He had! For a terrible moment, Heero feared that he had gone mad, his eyes scanning the beach with the intensity that only a former Gundam pilot could have. But small children, families, and couples at their leisure covered the warm, golden sands. There was no sign of the longhaired American. Despair clawed at Heero's heart, his nagging thoughts and insecurities rising in full force. They screamed at him, telling him over and over again that it had finally happened. Duo had finally left him. His lover had left him, their home, their life, and finally realized that there was so much more out there than the Japanese man could provide. Heero clutched at the drapes, pressing his forehead against the sun-warmed glass as his mind whirled. How could he have been such a fool? The beach walking had clearly been a sign that Duo wanted more, was not content with the simple life they led. And why not? The American was always so vibrant, so carefree, why would he want to be chained down to a paranoid sociopath like Heero?  
  
"Heero? Whatcha doin'?"  
  
The Japanese man jumped from his place in front of the window, spinning around to face his lover. There was Duo, framed by the bathroom door, a hairbrush in one hand and a towel in the other, his long hair lying damp across his bare back and shoulders. A strangled sound of relief made its way through Heero's throat, and in a heartbeat he had crossed the room, throwing his arms around the American. Duo made a squeak of protest, wet towel and matted hairbrush falling to the floor as Duo raised his arms to embrace Heero in return.  
  
"Heero?" Duo questioned, rubbing soothing circles across Heero's back. "Are you okay?"  
  
Heero only clutched Duo closer to him, afraid that if he let go he would find that he had only been dreaming, that Duo wouldn't really be there, but vanished forever like the sandcastles erased by the waves. Duo murmured softly, crooning a soft note of comfort and love. "It's okay, Heero. I'm here. I'm here. Was it another nightmare?"  
  
He could feel the tension draining away as Duo stroked his hair and whispered into his ear. This was his Duo, the Duo who held him when his nightmares and memories threatened to drag him away. The Duo whose smile and laughter could make Heero feel like everything he had fought and bled for was worth it. The Duo who was... his Duo. The relief he felt was overwhelming. Pulling his face away from where it had been buried against Duo's shoulder, Heero could only stare deeply into his lover's endless violet eyes.   
  
"Duo... you know... you know how I feel about you, right?"  
  
Duo smiled, running his fingers through Heero's sleep-mussed hair. "Idiot. Of course. Do you think I could ever forget?"  
  
It still wasn't enough. Heero still wouldn't be persuaded from the invasive thoughts that were running through his mind. Desperately, he lowered his lips to Duo's, confirming through his kiss that Duo *was* there, that this all wasn't some insane dream. Duo responded warmly, his arms curling across Heero's shoulders, his tongue tangling familiarly with Heero's. Duo still tasted the same, the tang of mint toothpaste not able to cover up the sweetness that was Duo himself. And, as always, kissing Duo struck a spark in Heero's soul, like sticking a fork into an electric socket. It was a feeling so intense and unforgettable that Heero wondered how he could ever doubt it. Still not sated, Heero hefted Duo into his arms, deposited his lover into their bed, and covered the American's body with his own.  
  
"Duo... I thought... don't ever..."  
  
"... no... no, never... Heero..."  
  
The sun streamed through the window, throwing a bright, warm shaft of light across the bed and the occupants of it. The waves lapped gently at the beach, bringing the salty fresh scent of the ocean in its glory. But none of this was taken notice of by the two men entwined together.  
  
  
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Heero knew that his... situation... was getting out of hand. Duo had recently started commenting on the dark circles that had begun to manifest themselves beneath his sapphire eyes. The worrying and nagging was especially heartbreaking since Heero could not confess to his lover what, exactly, kept him tense and irritable. Heero could only answer Duo's questions and prodding with incomplete answers, half-hearted grunts, and vague descriptions of bad dreams. And wasn't that true? Wasn't the thought of his lover *continuing* to leave their bed in the deep of the night enough to drive any man to insanity?  
  
But the young Japanese man had a plan. It was illogical to try to complete a mission without first gathering all necessary intel and vital data. Any fool fresh out of Preventer training knew how important it was to do reconnaissance. And while one part of Heero recoiled at the thought of treating his relationship with Duo like a mission, the rest of him was glad to do anything short of breaking down to get to the truth.   
  
"Come with me."  
  
Duo looked up from where he was curled on the couch, a book in one hand and a mug of cocoa in the other. "What was that?"  
  
Heero just reached down, tugging Duo off of the couch, barely giving his lover enough time to mark his page and put down his drink. "I feel like taking a walk."  
  
The American turned his violet eyes out the living room window, frowning at the sight. "Heero, what's up with you? It's nearly dark and the tide's coming in. What's with the sudden urge?"  
  
Heero said nothing, still clasping Duo's hand in his own, practically dragging Duo behind him as he went out the backdoor, through the fence, and out onto the stretch of beach. And though Duo protested verbally, Heero was pleased to note that he did not try to break their handhold and eventually followed Heero on his quest. The Japanese man walked well past the high tide mark before stopping. He still held onto Duo hand, half afraid that his lover would bolt at the first opportunity.   
  
"Most scientific authorities agree that all known life originated from the ocean. The first air-breathing animals left their habitat to explore the land and thus populated the Earth through simple evolution. We are all descended from some single-celled organism that thrived in the Earth's primeval oceans."  
  
The blue-eyed man leaned forward, searching Duo's face for his reaction to that statement. Duo only raised an eyebrow at Heero's unprovoked science lesson. "Yeah, that's Darwinism, ne? I'm glad I'm not religious or I'd have to call you a blasphemer or something."  
  
Heero frowned. So Duo wasn't interested in the sea for its scientific benefits. He switched topics easily, reciting some of the facts that he had researched all week. He would figure out why Duo walked the beach even if it killed him. "Early civilizations were always centered near bodies of water, like major rivers, lakes, and the ocean. This was considered beneficial to providing early humans with drinkable water supplies and routes for trade, as well as the benefits of using the sea as a source of food."  
  
Duo didn't even look mildly interested. "Well, duh. Who really wants to die of thirst? I think it'd be a shitty way to die, don't you think? And can you imagine living in the desert? I don't know how Quatre does it sometimes. It's so freakin' hot! Give me a nice breeze and a palm tree any day."  
  
His eye twitched and Heero switched his tactics yet again. "The ocean remains the world's last uncharted realm. Humans have already populated space. The discoveries that could be made are hindered by the high pressures that are implicit in the ocean's depths."  
  
His lover pondered that one carefully, one hand tapping against his chin. "Yeah... but isn't gundanium pretty durable stuff? I mean, those Cancers and Pisces could go pretty far down and they were just Neo-Titanium. I think I remember reading something about a buncha researchers retooling some old mobile suits for deep sea stuff."  
  
If this had been any other evening conversation between the two lovers, Heero might have been persuaded to continue that line of thought. But he relentlessly pursued his goal of trying to ferret information from the man who claimed to never lie. "In the early sea-faring days, people were captured by the idea of sea monsters that trolled the ocean's depths, from the serpentine Leviathan to the monstrous Kraken. But there were also legends of beautiful cities beneath the waves, populated by mermaids, nymphs and gods."  
  
There was a certain sparkle of interest in Duo's violet eyes before a mischievous grin settled on Duo's lips. "Mermaids, huh? But didn't Sirens lure sailors to either death or madness because of their songs? You tryin' to tell me something, here? I mean, I know I ain't the best singer in the world, Heero..."  
  
Trying to reclaim his stride after Duo's amazing act of trying to change the tone of the conversation, Heero shook his head, squeezing the American's hand. "I didn't criticize your singing, Duo."  
  
"Eh? Then, 'dammit, Maxwell, turn that shit down' isn't a criticism of my choices of music? Then I guess you can't complain when I start blasting old heavy metal on Sunday mornings." Duo reached out with his free hand, tugging playfully at the hem of Heero's shirt. "Come on, Heero. I know something's eatin' at ya. Just spill already. You can trust me."  
  
"Duo, I just--" Heero cut himself off before a confession could sneak its way under his guard. No, he still didn't know how Duo would take such information. He still didn't know what drove his lover to walk the beach. Instead, Heero dropped his hold on Duo's hand, and wandered a bit farther down the beach. Duo trailed after him uncertainly, and Heero could see the worried and confused expression on his face from the corner of his eye. Heero turned, looking out over the waves. "They say that water represents life, because all life came from it. It is an integral part of human and animal existence, like the air. It also represents freedom, because the oceans are wild and can never be contained."  
  
Heero looked over his shoulder, watching Duo standing on the beach, arms crossed over his chest. The breeze stirred Duo's braid, making it flap and bounce like a flag. With the light from the setting sun illuminating his features, his violet eyes as deep as the oceans, Heero couldn't help but compare his lover to the untamable seas. He loved Duo more than water, though.  
  
Duo shook his head, chestnut bangs tossed and ruffled by the breeze. "Yeah, water's pretty damn important. Didn't know all that symbolism stuff though. What's up with you, Heero? Why are you saying all these things?"  
  
Heero frowned at Duo's curt tone of voice then shrugged, not answering Duo's question. There had been that faint note of unease beneath Duo's words, and Heero realized that all this talk of the importance of water was undoubtedly dredging up Duo's memories of his misspent youth. The soldier in Heero railed, demanding that the Japanese man exploit this area of weakness… that this might be where his lover's reasoning and explanations were hidden. But standing there, watching Duo shield himself with his arms from the buffeting wind, Heero could not do it. There was no longer war... no need for him to be as brutally efficient as he had been at fifteen. They had pledged their lives to each other, and even if he didn't find the answers now, there would still be other days to try. At least, Heero hoped there would be other days.  
  
A fond memory tickled the back of Heero's mind, and he smiled. Duo looked at him curiously, and Heero just raised one hand to his arm, running his fingers over a very old scar. "When we first met, it was by the ocean."  
  
Duo's eyes twinkled merrily, falling easily into his memories. "Yeah, and I shot you. Twice."  
  
The blue-eyed man snorted, continuing the teasing banter. "You caught me off guard. It only happened once."  
  
"You think I can't take you by surprise anymore?"  
  
"You take me by surprise every day."  
  
Duo didn't answer, and Heero suddenly felt uncomfortable. Had he gone too far? Did Duo not want to be reminded of how much he meant to Heero? Was Duo purposely chaining himself to a life he didn't want, simply to spare Heero's raw emotions? All those insecurities rose up again, finding a new voice that was especially shrill after the amiable reminiscing. His fault... was it all his fault? Heero shoved his hands into his pockets, staring out blankly over the deep blue sea. The wind tugged at his hair, mussing the already unmanageable chocolate locks. The sand was cool beneath his feet, shifting slightly beneath his weight but otherwise giving him stable footing. Then the tide swept in, covering his feet in an icy deluge. It was only Heero's intense training that kept him from recoiling from the ocean's kiss. Heero looked down, watching the churning waters as the rushed up around his ankles, halfway to his knees, drenching the legs of his jeans. The sands swirled at his feet, rushing way with the waves and leaving him standing in a depression. Heero ignored the discomfort; the only thought racing through his mind was that now he knew why Duo disliked getting his feet wet when he went on his nocturnes.   
  
Raising his eyes to the horizon, the sun dipped down, spreading brilliant red-gold rays across the skies and painting the ocean a deep shade of violet that reminded Heero of Duo's eyes. Then as quickly as it started, the sun disappeared, its intense light hovering for that one instant before dusk descended and darkness claimed the world. Heero dropped his head again. He couldn't find it. He couldn't see the allure of standing out on a cold beach, without even the sun to warm your skin.  
  
And it was only a feather-light touch across his neck, and warm arms wrapping themselves tightly across his middle that brought Heero out of his thoughts. Duo pressed up against his back, tucking his chin against Heero's shoulder, wrapping the Japanese man up in his love. Heero couldn't help but lean back into his lover's embrace. The American's hands rubbed against Heero's bare arms, trying to get the warmth back into them. Then Duo's breath was whispering against Heero's cheek, and he could feel his lover's lips against his ear, even gentler than the breeze from the sea that had kissed him earlier.  
  
"You're freezing, Heero. Come inside."  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Heero gave a small grunt as he lifted the heavy basket of laundry into his arms. He balanced the basket against his hip, kicking out one foot to shut the dryer door. The sound of the door slamming shut seemed unnaturally loud to Heero, and he berated himself for taking out his aggressions on the innocent appliances. Despite the efforts Heero had made, Duo was still slipping out of their bed at night. The walk on the beach, days spent out sight-seeing, even the night where Heero drove Duo to the point of insanity and back again -- making his lover scream his name until he was hoarse -- did not deter the braided man from his nightly walks. Though, Heero had to give Duo credit for still being able to move after *that* particular night. Heero could only sigh and allow his mind to ponder the situation; still not able to figure out the puzzle that was his gregarious lover.  
  
He moved through the house to the bedroom, where Duo was folding the laundry. Well, he was *supposed* to be folding the laundry, but the sight that greeted Heero's blue eyes Duo sprawled on top of their bed, holding up a pile of shirts and towels to his face and sighing. Heero dumped the latest load onto the bed, holding onto the basket.  
  
"You're supposed to be folding the laundry, Duo. Not rolling around on it."  
  
His lover stretched, a pale band of stomach flashing into view as his shirt rode up. "Oh man, Heero. There's nothing like clean, warm laundry. Best stuff in the world." Duo shifted position, rolling over and thrusting his arms deep into the dryer-fresh clothes. "So warm..." Duo gave a suggestive little moan and buried his face against the fabrics. "Springtime fresh!"  
  
"Don't be silly, Duo," Heero chided. "You're just messing up the laundry."  
  
Duo pouted, pulling his face away from one of Heero's tank tops and a pair of his own sweatpants. "Oh, come on, Yuy. Don't tell me that all these years and you've never buried your face in clean laundry before."  
  
Heero didn't answer, feeling awkward as he held the empty laundry basket in one hand. The light-hearted expression on Duo's face turned to one of concern, sadness, and then a look of understanding.  
  
"Oh, Heero. Let's fix that right now, okay?" Duo gathered up an armful of laundry and sat up, bringing it up to Heero's face. "Come on! Just smell it! It won't hurt you."  
  
Tentatively, Heero leaned forward, taking a deep breath of the fresh laundry. It smelled like detergent and fabric softener, and Heero could feel the warmth still radiating from the clothes. But even better was the way Duo's amethyst eyes lit up as Heero complied with the small request. The American's expression was achingly tender... sweet... Heero could see the small flyaways pulling from Duo's braid, the tempting curve of his neck and shoulders, and the bright, inviting look in his eyes. The laundry basket slipped from the Japanese man's fingers and Heero leaned farther, brushing a light kiss against Duo's lips. His arms lifted up, encircling his lover and the warm, fresh laundry trapped between their bodies.  
  
They ended up having to redo the laundry.  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
The right side of the bed was empty.  
  
Heero resisted the urge he had to scream or physically vent out his frustrations. As it was, the Japanese man punched the mattress, his fist bouncing up again. The whole effort was very unsatisfactory. Heero knew he was acing childish, but couldn't help himself. He blamed the sleep-deprivation and stress for his short temper. Heero kicked off the covers -- not carrying that they landed in a pile at the foot of the bed -- and moved to the window for his nightly round of spying.  
  
The wind was high tonight, fairly howling against the eaves. But Heero had checked the weather reports; there were no storms due to batter the shore. It took a bit of looking, but Heero finally spotted Duo standing at the edge of the waves. He frowned. Duo never stood in one place during his haunts; he always walked the same path down the beach. While Duo would vary his strides, almost randomly choosing whether he wanted to travel fast or slow, he never *stopped*. Heero leaned closer to the window, his warm breath fogging up the glass and making it harder for him to see. Duo still stood there like a statue, his face turned towards the sea. With everything moving in slow motion, Heero could only watch as Duo raised one bare arm, pulling his hair free of its braid and allowing the stiff ocean breeze to unravel the long chestnut mane. Then Duo stepped forward against the wind, towards the ocean, his arms spread wide as if embracing the siren's call.  
  
Time returned to normal.  
  
A harsh cry ripped from Heero's throat, and without further thought he was dashing through the house, not even pausing to snatch up the blanket that was on the couch as he rushed by it. Heero threw open the backdoor, his mind barely registering the sound of glass breaking. His feet were pounding across the traitorous sand, which shifted and turned beneath him, trying to upset his balance and cause him to be too late. All that Heero could think was that he had been a fool, and now he was going to lose his lover forever.  
  
"DUO!"  
  
Duo didn't have enough time to even turn around before Heero was on him, arms around a slim waist and physically dragging the startled American away from the water. They wrestled against each other, toppling to the sand. Duo managed to break free, scrabbling far enough away to be out of Heero's immediate reach. When the Japanese man made as if to tackle him again, Duo scowled, pushing himself up from the beach.  
  
"Heero! Goddammit! What the hell's up with you?!"  
  
"Don't do it!" Heero exclaimed, hands twitching with a need to hold onto his lover.   
  
"Don't do *what*?" Duo asked, a wary and confused expression gracing his features.   
  
"Don't kill yourself," Heero whispered, hanging his head dejectedly.   
  
"What?!" Duo's expression now shifted to one of outrage and he stepped forward, smacking Heero on the shoulder. "Idiot! I'd never do something like that. Is that what it looked like from the bedroom window?"  
  
Heero's head snapped up, Prussian eyes focusing on the solemn face of his lover. He couldn't believe it. How could Duo… he… didn't he… Heero's mind was reeling with the revelation, and all that he could force himself to say was: "I… you knew?"  
  
Duo snorted, shoving his tangled and sandy hair away from his face. "Did you honestly think I didn't know? I've been translating your grunts to everyone for years. I'm pretty damn good at reading you. Besides, you always leave fingerprints all over the glass."  
  
"I'm sorry." Heero cursed the way his voice sounded so needy and weak. "So… you're not angry?"  
  
"Angry? Not really. I mean, I was at first, 'cuz I thought you thought I was stupid or something. But you never said anything about it. There was just the smudged up window to tell me you watched me every night. And then... I sorta liked it. Thank you... for being strong enough to let me do this."  
  
"Strong?" Heero barked out, his voice gruff. "I've been going insane all this time, wondering if you were going to leave me."  
  
Violet eyes widened in shock. "Leave?! You thought I would actually dump you?"  
  
"Why not? I'm nothing special. Just a blue-eyed man whose skills and training make him dangerous and unstable."  
  
"But they're the best damn blue eyes I've ever seen." Duo slid against Heero, his arms wrapping around Heero's waist and giving him a squeeze. "And I like danger in my life."  
  
"You never told me!" Heero snapped out, losing control of his emotions. He pushed Duo out to arm's length, ignoring the hurt expression that crossed his lover's face. "You never told me that you left. You never told me why you left. I watched you every night from that damned window, not knowing if you were going to throw yourself into the water or just keep walking and never come back! You came back in the morning and acted like nothing had changed, but you never said anything... not one word!"  
  
"Heero..."  
  
"Just tell me. You can toss me out tomorrow for being a paranoid bastard, but I don't think I can... I don't think I can... anything... without knowing."  
  
Duo enfolded Heero in his embrace again and smoothed his fingers down Heero's back. "I didn't know. I guess I should apologize, too. I... just didn't want ya to think I was crazy or anything."  
  
Heero gazed deeply into Duo's amethyst eyes, once hand stroking Duo's cheek. "I don't think I'm qualified to make a judgment like that. Not like this. Tell me. Please."  
  
"I just..." Duo turned away from Heero's intense sapphire gaze, staring out over the dark waters instead. "It started when I was really little, when I was just the runty tagalong following at Solo's heels. It was rough; food and clothing was hard to come by, and water was even worse. Strange that it was the most important thing we needed. Solo always said that the ocean was full of water but he'd never seen it. He said he'd seen pictures in magazine though, and that one day, he'd take us all there. It was like a myth to all of us in the gang, 'cuz who would just leave all that water lying around when you could bottle it up and sell it and make a killing? And no one ever got off L2, especially not street kids.  
  
"Then, Sister Helen... she used to tell me stories, at the Church. She used to live near the ocean, ya know, before she was a nun. It was all the things she learned from her parents and grandparents, stories and myths and legends all about the sea. She always said that she'd like to see the ocean one more time, but her Order had sent her to L2 and that's where she had to stay. I always thought she was lying, even though she wasn't allowed to. I even told her that to her face. I didn't think there could ever be anything as wonderful and mysterious and dangerous as the ocean in her stories. Besides, I was still just a street brat, even if I wound up in a Church... what chance would I ever have of seeing the Earth, or being close enough to the ocean? Then, when I was in the shuttle for Operation Meteor, I saw it. It was... blue and... huge. It was everywhere. I hooked up with Howard and got to be *in* the sea, riding the waves on the Sweeper's ship. And I realized that everything Sister Helen had said about the ocean was true, and I didn't believe her."  
  
All the strength seemed to leave Duo with his confession and he sank down to his knees, settling against the sand. Heero followed, unwilling to allow his lover to leave his arms. He spied the blanket lying on the ground and picked it up. He kneeled behind Duo, wrapping himself and the blanket around the American's cold body. The wind stirred up again, the waves crashing just out of their reach. Duo's long hair streamed out behind him, as if in defiance to the ocean itself.  
  
"So that's why I do it, Heero. I do it for Solo, who wanted to live for himself and do good things, but died before he got the chance. I do it for Sister Helen, who always wanted to go home, but loved her God more than the sea. They both gave me so much; they both wanted me to live. It makes me feel better, to think that I can do this little thing for them, talk to them and walk on the beach, because they can't do it themselves."  
  
"You talk to them?" Heero asked, curiously. He made his tone serious, rather than facetious, to show that he did not think his lover was crazy or delusional.  
  
Duo nodded, lifting up handfuls of sand and allowing the wind to pull it from his fingers. "Yeah. Sorta silly, but I swear you can hear voices in the waves. Like sticking a seashell up to your ear and hearing the ocean, even though it's really just the echo of the blood pumping through your veins. I never got a real answer besides that though, so I guess I ain't that far gone."  
  
Heero could make no reply, only drew his arms tighter around Duo's body. They both clung to each other, watching the sky lighten across the dark ocean, from deep blue to dusky rose. And as the sun rose slowly higher, the waves now lapping at their feet, Duo turned in Heero's arms. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, each memorizing the familiar sight. Then, with the ocean whispering in their ears, they leaned together, finally sealing the gap that lay between their bodies. When they finally pulled apart, forced to stand because of the tide swirling all around them, Heero took hold of Duo's hand as they struggled together through the surf. The blanket was now tangled around both their shoulders, its water-logged state causing them stumble and slip, making them hold onto each other to keep their balance. Duo paused, turning to look at the dawn-kissed sea one last time. Heero stood patiently, waiting for his lover to finish with his task. Heero cast his sapphire gaze across the waters as well. And it seemed as if Heero, too, could hear voices in the waves, quietly approving of the love between the two men. When Duo slipped into his arms again, his face was glowing with happiness and love.  
  
"Can you hear them, Heero?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
  
  
-- Owari -- 


End file.
